


Opressed (Henry Jekyll/Hastie Lanyon)

by henry_jekyll_is_totally_not_gay



Series: Old Stuff that I Hate,,,, [1]
Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cliffhangers, Cute, Everyone Is Gay, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, OTP Feels, also this will never be updated, oh no he forgot henry's pressie, this is the last of my posting spree i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 14:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19358944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henry_jekyll_is_totally_not_gay/pseuds/henry_jekyll_is_totally_not_gay
Summary: again this is very old





	Opressed (Henry Jekyll/Hastie Lanyon)

Dr. Hastie Lanyon trudged down the slippery streets of London, more specifically, Bolton Street. Today was the 8th of January and that meant it was his dear friend Dr. Henry Jekyll’s 51st birthday. “ _ I wish the friends were younger! _ ” A cheery conversation Lanyon had once had with another friend of his, Mr. John Gabriel Utterson, echoed in his mind. It was true, nonetheless. Hastie did wish he could go back to his childhood, to the stressful yet wonderful days of university. The rain poured down from the heavens as his mind wondered as he walked, and before Hastie knew it, he was standing above the towering home of the birthday boy. Lanyon gulped as he marched up the stone stairs that led to the grand oak doors, the doors he had acquainted both Jekyll and his welcoming home. Utterson had said it many times; he had always said how he felt that Henry’s home, especially the hall, was the pleasantest in London. The thought of Henry brought a blush to Hastie’s cheeks, and as he approached the top of the stairs, Lanyon held up his knuckles and lightly tapped it against the glass. 

The doctor could feel his face heat up again, and his throat tightened.

He was nervous.

But why should he be? There was no need.

It was just another party. 

Henry’s party.

Henry.

Hastie hated to admit it, but every time Jekyll spoke to him, or even if he was brought up in a conversation, he would always get these warm, fuzzy feelings. He would look away from whoever he was socializing with, because their eyes were nowhere near as beautiful as Henry’s. He would stare at Jekyll’s soft, supple lips as they moved up and down as he spoke. He would wonder how smooth Henry’s skin was to the touch. He would stand and sulk with a glass of whisky in his hand whenever Henry was talking to someone else, jealousy pulsing through his veins. He would always wait until Jekyll opened his gift on Christmas Day to see the cute smile-

Gift.

 

Hastie groaned in annoyance and pinched the arch of his nose. The umbrella wavered at the force of the rain, sending rain water onto the doctor’s clothes. But getting wet was the least of his worries. He forgot Henry’s birthday present, goddammit. The forgotten gift was a scarlet red cravat, made from Mulberry silk, with embroidered silver swirls. The wrapping paper was simple; brown sugar paper tied with string. Henry had always said he loved a change, so why not have something minimalistic but meaningful? Lanyon’s strop was cut short when the door was swung open. There stood John, a concerned look on his face. “Oh, Hastie, thank god you’re here!” Utterson ushered his friend into the living room, pushing past the other party guests with counterfeit politeness. “You’re soaked, Hastie..” John mumbled as he slumped down into a wingback chair. “Nice to see you too, old friend.” Lanyon chuckled slightly and saw that John rolled his eyes and smirked, then slid his damp cloak from his shoulders and crouched down by the hearth, settling it in front of the fire guard. “Where’s the birthday boy, then?” Lanyon rose to his feet and rested in the armchair beside Utterson’s. John sighed, looking into the small blaze that illuminated the room. “He’s..” Utterson turned his head to meet Hastie’s eyes. “At rock bottom.” Lanyon raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Rock bottom? What do you mean  _ rock bottom _ ? He’s probably fi-” The doctor was interrupted by the lawyer, who slammed his fist on the arm of the wingback and rose from the chair in a fit of rage. “ _ FINE _ ? HE’S NOT FINE, HASTIE! THE POOR MAN HASN’T EVEN COME OUT OF HIS ROOM YET! HOW IS THAT-” Utterson halted his speech, and after a minute of excruciating silence, cleared his throat and perched on the edge of the wingback. “He’s not fine,” John muttered, not looking Hastie in the eye. “He’s anything but that..”

“How long has he been up there?” Hastie blurted out, and then widened his eyes, surprised at himself.

“About an hour. He was there to greet everyone, and then he just vanished. Nobody’s heard from him since. Poole’s checked the cabinet, but he isn’t there. I feel it’ll be a breach of privacy if I check his bedroom.” Utterson’s words trailed off his tongue as he lost his train of thought. Lanyon had a sudden light bulb moment, but decided not to share it with John. What if  _ he _ went up to Jekyll’s room? “John, how about we go join the others?” Hastie said, clearing his throat as he stood up from his chair. “Actually, I think I’m gonna stay here..” John whispered, his words hanging in the air. Lanyon nodded and mumbled a silent goodbye.

This was perfect.

Everything was going according to plan.

 

Or was it?


End file.
